


whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same

by brittyelaine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coda, Episode Related, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Missing Scene, Post-Episode: s13e07 War of the Worlds, Sam Ships It, Supportive Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-06 23:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12828837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brittyelaine/pseuds/brittyelaine
Summary: Dean grips the back of the chair for support. His stomach turns, and his heart pounds against his ribs. Cas could be in danger, or worse, dead.Again.  He doesn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t want to think of blinding blue lights or scorched wings. Hecan’tthink about it. “We made a vow, Sam,” he confesses. He’s quiet, like a child muttering the rule he’s just broken after he’s been called out.





	whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same

**Author's Note:**

> Title from _Wuthering Heights_ by Emily Brontë
> 
> Come hang out with me on [Tumblr!](http://brittywritesstuff.tumblr.com)

“I mean it, Sammy, somethin’s wrong. Off.”

Sam closes the lid of his laptop, obviously resigning himself to the fact that Dean wasn’t going to let him work in peace. _Damn right._ “How? Dean, it’s Cas. This isn’t exactly unusual behavior for him.”

“That’s not— it’s—“ Dean huffs, exasperated with his brother. Why can’t he see? “You don’t know him like I do, okay?”

Sam squares his shoulders, taking offense to Dean’s comment. “What’s that supposed to mean? Cas is my friend, too.”

Dean holds up a hand to stop further argument from Sam. “I… He wouldn’t just disappear like this. Not this time. Not after—“ He still has such a difficult time with the subject of Cas’s death. He swallows the words and shakes his head, looking to his feet. 

“Dean.” Sam’s voice is firm, but Dean doesn’t look up. He just wishes Sam would take his word for it and _help_ him, rather than interrogate him. “Dean, what’s with you? This isn’t just about Cas taking off to meet with the angels. Dude. Talk to me.”

Dean grips the back of the chair for support. His stomach turns, and his heart pounds against his ribs. Cas could be in danger, or worse, dead. _Again_. He doesn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t want to think of blinding blue lights or scorched wings. He _can’t_ think about it. “We made a vow, Sam,” he confesses. He’s quiet, like a child muttering the rule he’s just broken after he’s been called out. 

Sam doesn’t make him repeat himself, and Dean’s thankful for that. “A vow?” Dean doesn’t even have to be looking at him to know the face he’s making. “What kind of vow?” Sam scoffs. “A vow of silence? Chastity?” Dean can hear the smirk in his voice. “Marriage?”

At that word, Dean’s grip on the chair tightens. Slowly, he lifts his head to look at his brother, who’s staring dumbfounded. “Wait. Dean. What?”

Huffing, Dean pushes off the chair and heads for the hallway. It was a mistake going to Sam. It was a mistake trying to convince him of something despite it making Dean sound paranoid and overbearing. It was a mistake to open that floodgate. 

“Dean, wait! Hey! Stop!”

He does, just outside his door. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he turns to face Sam, though he wishes he was facing the bottle of Jim Beam in his dresser drawer. “What, Sam?”

“Were you…” Sam shifts his weight, and Dean can tell he’s mulling his word choice carefully. “Were you serious about the whole, y’know, marriage thing?”

With a heavy sigh, Dean grabs the doorknob. He could lie, but Sam would see right through it. What the hell is the use anymore? “Yes,”

Sam’s confused, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Dean resists the urge to slap the dumb look off his face. “Wha— I don’t— I mean— When? How?”

Fearing condescension, Dean scoffs and pushes through his door. “Go away, Sam.” He tries to close the door, but Sam stops it. 

“Hey. I’m serious, Dean. I’m trying to understand. I mean. You and Cas. I'm not surprised, really. It’s just… the vows thing. That’s kind of throwing me. Help me to understand.” He leans back against the doorframe as Dean sinks down on the end of the bed. 

“Dodge City,” Dean says, breaking the long silence that’s stretched between them. “When you went to interview the girl, Cas and I had some time alone. We just…” He clasps his hands and looks down at them, shaking his head. “We were tired, Sammy. Of losin’ each other. Of lyin’. I was so damn tired of bein’ stupid. So, we made each other vows. Right there in that goddamn cowboy motel. And I’m not really lookin’ forward to meetin’ the ‘till death do us part’ thing just yet. So, please. Sammy. I need your help. We need to find him.”

Sam smiles, crossing the room to join Dean on the bed. He settles a hand on Dean’s shoulder, his grip solid. “I’ll do whatever it takes. We’ll bring him home, and we’ll give you guys the wedding you deserve.”

Dean leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He knows Sammy means well, and it’s more appreciated than he’ll ever know. But, if he’s being honest, those few quiet moments with Cas, whispering their vows to each other before losing themselves between the sheets… it couldn’t have been more perfect if he’d tried. 

—  
Dean sets his cup down and exhales slowly. Cas is watching him, waiting patiently. Always waiting, that one. Always. Licking his lips, he nods to the empty cushions beside him on the couch. “I don’t bite.”

Cas raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?” 

God, Dean’s missed that sense of humor. Hell, he’s missed Cas, plain and simple. “Shut up and get over here.” As he stands, Cas smirks, and Dean doesn’t even bother hiding his smile. A smile of any degree from Cas is almost as good as a hot cup of coffee. It makes him feel warm. Comfortable. 

He shifts as Dean settles beside him, and drapes his arm over the back of the couch. He turns to face Cas, reveling in the closeness. “How are you doin’, Cas?”

“I’m fine, Dean.”

“You sure?” He moves his hand, settling it beneath Cas’s ear. His thumb brushes the hinge of his jaw, fingers dipping into his hair. “I worry about you. Everything you went to. With Lucifer and dyin’ and I—“

He stops when Cas’s hand settles on his jaw. “Dean,” he says, and it’s low and gravelly. The voice that always sends chills down Dean’s spine. “I’m fine because I’m here. I’m with you.”

“Home,” Dean amends. 

“Home,” Cas agrees. His hand slides downward, settling over Dean’s heart. 

Dean closes his hand around Cas’s and tilts his head, suddenly overcome by more emotions than he knows what to do with. “I can’t do it again,” he says, surprised by the vulnerability of his own voice. “I can’t— I can’t lose you again, Cas.”

Cas shifts, his coat rustling against the weaved material of the couch. His forehead bumps Dean’s, and Dean closes his eyes. “I’m not leaving.”

Dean kisses him, as if his words would betray him. Kissing Cas is the answer to everything. He pulls back, needing to breathe, and tugs Cas with him as he stands. He needs Cas. Needs all of Cas. His coat is discarded, and Dean rids him of his tie as they push through the faux-saloon doors. 

“Cas,” Dean breathes, hands grasping Cas’s face. “Promise me.” He’s desperate, heated, and overwhelmed. “Please.”

Cas’s hands are on his waist, slipping upward beneath the black t-shirt. “Promise what, Dean?”

“You’ll never leave me again.” His thumbs sweep over Cas’s cheekbones, green eyes met with a breathtaking ocean of blue. He presses closer, needing to be connected at every point possible. 

Cas is quiet for a moment. His hands leave Dean’s waist, and he’s disappointed for a moment before they wrap around Dean’s wrists. “I vow,” he says, gently pulling Dean’s hands from his face, “to be by your side whenever possible. I vow to protect you from heartbreak.”

Dean’s eyes well with tears, and he inhales shakily as Cas continues. “If ever there is tomorrow when we’re not together…there is something you must always remember. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we’re apart…I’ll always be with you.”

“Did you…” Dean huffs a laugh through his tears, his tongue swiping along his bottom lip. He shifts his weight, glancing down for a moment before lifting his eyes to the angel’s again. “Did you just quote Winnie the Pooh to me?”

Cas smiles, and Dean’s heart melts. The way his eyes crinkle at the corners. The way the blue of his eyes seems to sparkle. “Yes. I did.”

Dean wiggles his hands out of Cas’s grip and cups his face again. “I love you, Cas. And I want— I need you. Right here, right now, I’m vowing to trust you. To protect you. To keep you safe. And,” he leans in, brushing his lips against Cas’s. “I vow to always make sure you know how goddamn loved you are. Till death,” he kisses him again, “do us part.”

“And forever beyond.”

They lose themselves in each other's lips, and with frenzied hands and haphazardly discarded clothes, they find their way to bed, whole-heartedly determined to consummate their vows. 

—  
Sam’s hand on his shoulder brings him back, and Dean realizes he’s crying. “We’ll find him,” Sam says. “We’ll figure it out. It’s gonna be okay, Dean.”

Dean nods, silent and solemn. 

“He always comes back to you, right? Have faith. He’d want you to have faith.”

Sam leaves him then, and Dean draws a ragged breath. He presses his hand to his chest, closing his eyes as he remembers Cas’s hand there. Sam’s right, he knows. He needs to keep faith. Cas returned to him. He made promises. 

Dean has to believe they’ll find their way back to each other. As if the cosmos paved the road just for them, they always find their way back.

**Author's Note:**

> Cas is quoting "Pooh’s Grand Adventure: The Search for Christopher Robin."
> 
> This whole thing came to me in the shower, and I knew I had to write it because I have a serious thing for Dean and Cas being married -- secret or not. It just warms my lil heart.


End file.
